


To Kick a Hollow Log

by walking_tornado



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Centaurs, Fauns & Satyrs, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9848960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walking_tornado/pseuds/walking_tornado
Summary: When centaur!Jensen is set upon by an angry group of forest spirits, he is rescued by faun!Jared.





	

**Author's Note:**

>  
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> [Link to soserendipity's art masterpost](http://soserendipity.livejournal.com/41327.html)  
> 

JENSEN 

Jensen clenched his teeth and pawed the ground, feeling more like an angered bull than a centaur. 

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Danneel warned him, adding unnecessarily, “Seriously, Jensen, you have to let it go.” 

Jensen glared at her, but bit back the words he wanted to say. “You’re sure it was him?” he asked instead. It wasn’t much hope. Not many in the herd had a physique like Stephen’s; his muscular form was hard to miss, especially in the day’s clear morning sun. Jensen shifted uncomfortably, remembering how much Stephen had enjoyed dalliance in the morning. The increased sexual response during the centaur mating season meant that the mere thought of Stephen was enough to relax Jensen’s retractor muscles and allow his cock to slide from its sheath. 

“I’m sure.” Danneel looked away, affording him a modicum of privacy, which abruptly made Jensen even angrier. She didn't normally care about privacy. 

“With Chris?” That his friend had betrayed him like that made the wound so much deeper. 

“Sorry.” 

“I need to get out of here.” Understatement. If he stayed this close to the rutting grounds much longer, he would call them out: Chris and his former mate. He and Stephen had an unspoken agreement that, while they each had responsibilities to different herds, at the annual gathering they’d be together. For the last four mating seasons they’d been inseparable, and Jensen hadn’t been prepared for things to change. 

As Jensen trotted briskly away towards the western forest without another word, he heard Danneel's loud sigh of frustration. 

“If you’re not back by nightfall, I’m coming to look for you!” 

Jensen broke into a thundering gallop, needing to be far away from the mating grounds. His traitorous body would elicit ridicule from the other tribes, who had pressured the Ackles scion to make a more traditional choice of mate. He scented the air, and when he noted the presence of two others who had come this way not long ago, he changed paths. It didn’t matter where he went, so long as it was away from everyone. Choosing a lesser-travelled path wouldn’t prevent others from finding him, but at least he wouldn’t run into anyone accidentally until he felt ready to rejoin civilization again. 

The sun was still high when Jensen eventually slowed. The exertion had burnt away most of his immediate need to punch someone, leaving a futile, helpless anger that was intertwined with hurt. Panting, he slowed to a walk and wandered off the path. The birds called to each other among the trees, and the light breeze was just enough to caress Jensen’s hot flank. Soon he would have to deal with the constant presence of the gossiping herd, but for now he would enjoy his solitude. 

As he cooled down from his run, Jensen noticed an increasing pain in his back left hoof. It was an uncomfortable fullness that became a painful ache when he put pressure on that leg. He bent awkwardly to look at the underside, and sure enough, a small rock had wedged itself in his hoof. He twisted and reached down, feeling the pull of muscles along his chest. It was tightly lodged in there, and he’d need something finer than his blunt fingers to pry it away. He grimaced. Walking home wouldn’t be pleasant. 

He looked around, spied a fallen log and, hoping to loosen the stone, kicked it hard with the edge of his hoof. He twisted around again only to see that it hadn’t had the desired effect. Jensen unbalanced slightly before regaining his footing―glad no one was there to see him look foolish. Hoof care was best done with a partner. Stephen would have trailed his hands down his underbelly to his leg with teasing slowness until he reached Jensen’s sensitive fetlock, and all the while his other hand would be working his . . . No! He was not going to think about him, about either of them. Jensen reared up and delivered a powerful back kick, splintering the log. He stopped, the explosion having drained the anger. The soreness in on the sole of his hoof bloomed into outright pain and he winced when he put weight on that leg. 

It was then that he noticed the shimmering. 

It began as a haze rising quickly from the overturned trunk, growing in size until it stood almost to Jensen’s withers. Jensen backed up, stumbling on the uneven terrain. The shining mist didn’t follow him. Instead, it coalescent into several semi-opaque forms, gradually solidifying until five creatures stood before him. Each was vaguely humanoid, apart from the ox-like tail and their tree-bark backs, and they carried bows and spears. Standing on the remains of the rotten trunk Jensen had splintered, none looked friendly. 

“Sorry,” Jensen said. “I didn’t mean to disturb. . .” He trailed off as the five figures smiled. Then the first lithe form began to change. Its bared toes became harder, shifting and elongating until a hoof had taken form, its thin chest became more muscular even as its legs grew a coat of hair. Its face seemed to melt and it began to reform. Jensen’s eyes widened in understanding before he clenched them shut. 

“Oh shit,” he muttered, and he began blindly backing away. Huldrefolk weren’t common to the forests of Jensen’s herd, but there had been rumors that they’d been spotted in the area around the mating grounds. 

The herd elders had discussed the situation several years ago, and one of them had stood up before the gathering with their consensus. “Their targets are human. They do not bother with us. Simply leave them be and they will leave us alone.” 

Jensen wondered what suggestion they would offer to someone who had inadvertently destroyed a nest. He suspected it would be “Run!” Jensen had, of course, heard the stories. While not kin to succubi, their hunting techniques were similar, and a glamoured huldre would lure away unsuspecting humans in guise of that human’s perfect mate, using them until its desire was sated. More often than not, the human would leave the encounter alive and deliriously happy―until the endorphins faded. The victim would then spend their life alone in a fruitless search to for illusion, for the perfect companion they had been enraptured to see. On the other hand, the humans whose sexual prowess left the huldre wanting were disemboweled and eaten. 

Jensen wheeled around, eyes still shut, and began to stumble away on the uneven ground, holding his arms out in front of him. It had never been clear if their glamour worked on centaurs, but a centaur’s upper body was identical to a human’s, so Jensen wasn’t going to risk it. He didn’t think much of his chances to escape. He could scent the way back, but would be unable to avoid obstacles on the overgrown path with his eyes shut to avoid the huldre's lure. That none of the creatures loosed spears or arrows made him all the more fearful, and he tripped on a protruding tree root as he sought to move faster. 

When the first huldre caught him, Jensen was already bleeding from rough encounters with branches, and his shoulder ached from banging into a tree. The first touch was deceptively gentle: a soft caress along his flank. It was joined by another, and another. No matter how he reared and spun, kicking out in all directions, the hands returned, more forceful, less soft. He landed a few good shots and felt the gratifying thunk as he made contact with a body and sent it flying. But there were too many, and he still couldn’t open his eyes to see them or he’d lose what little chance he had. 

One of them moved below him, running a hand along his underbelly, moving slowly, almost sensually, back. He instinctively kicked at it, but several hands trapped his back leg and fastened a rope that they pulled taut. Jensen reared, but another used the opportunity to hobble his front leg as well, pulling until he was stretched out, barely able to maintain his balance. One huldre mounted onto his back. He twisted to deliver an elbow strike, but another caught his arm, delivering a punishing blow to his kidneys. As he caught his breath, his arms were pinned behind him, held securely by the creature on his back, who leaned forward and licked a stripe from his shoulder blade to his ear. Its breath smelled foul, like rotting meat, and it clenched its legs tight to his flanks as he tried unsuccessfully to buck it off despite his precarious near-spread-eagled position. Jensen began to panic as the prying hands returned with caresses and pinches, touching every inch of him, eliciting unwanted reactions from his testosterone-addled body. 

The creatures pressed against him, and their hands moved with more focus. Their laughter crashed like crystal shards in his ear as his cock lengthened and emerged from its sheath. 

Fingers pulled at his eyelids, and Jensen squeezed them shut as tightly as he was able. Jensen had never heard that huldrefolk took unwilling victims, preferring to enchant them into willing partners; so as long as he refused to look at them, a chance remained. But they were also supposed to be solitary hunters, and he’d never heard of them hunting in packs. They must be especially angry. 

“It was an accident,” Jensen tried again. “I didn’t know you lived there and I would—” A gag--seemingly made of braided roots—was slipped over his head, and though he jerked his head away, it was pulled tight. 

The ringing sound of a quickly-drawn sword renewed Jensen’s struggles. He’d never heard of a huldre using steel before and his mind churned up terrifying images of its potential uses in their games. At the same time, the bodies around him froze, and as one they withdrew with animal-like growls. The huldre on Jensen’s back uttered a battle cry as it dismounted, and its piercing clarion temporarily deafened Jensen. 

With his arms no longer pinned, Jensen tore off the gag and windmilled his arms around, though he soon realized he was fending off creatures who no longer attacked him. His hearing hadn’t yet recovered fully, but he heard faint sounds of a scuffle. He turned his attention to the ropes, and he was able to stand properly once more now that were no longer held taut, but he was unable to free himself completely. 

The sounds of fighting grew as Jensen’s hearing improved. He tracked the fighting by the twang of bowstrings, the grunts of exertion, and snaps of branches. When a body stumbled into him, he lashed out and sent it hurtling away from him. From the thud that followed and the rustling of leaves above him, the body must have impacted a tree. Then there was silence. 

“Thanks." A masculine voice. "That’s the last of them.” The pause for breath between words showed evidence of exertion, but the voice still held traces of a smile, as if its owner found the whole thing highly amusing. Jensen tilted his head in curiosity and debated the wisdom of opening his eyes. 

When everything remained quiet, he ventured a look around. In front of him, a glamoured huldre, obviously dead, lay at the foot of a tall elm, and as Jensen watched, its equine body rippled and faded, showing the creature’s original oxen tail and its broken, bark-like skin, before it transformed into mist and faded away. Four other wisps of mist were likewise dissipating, and when they had cleared, Jensen found himself staring at a single remaining figure. 

He’d opened them too soon. 

The creature that stood before him started up a stream of words, likely designed to lull Jensen into relaxing, and it poked at a bleeding claw-mark on its bare chest. It carried a short sword which it sheathed in its shield's scabbard, and when it rolled its shoulder the flex of its muscles made Jensen’s already primed body stiffen in interest. Though Jensen could tell its glamour was working, this huldre had not bothered to stay true to centaur form. This one walked on two hoofed feet like a goat’s, and while it maintained an impressive physique that rivalled Stephen’s, Jensen still towered over it. And he found he liked that very much. 

“Didn’t expect to find this when I went berry-picking.” The glamoured huldre looked him up and down with an appreciative smile. It zeroed in on Jensen’s underbelly where he knew his engorged cock must be prominently visible. “My luck’s definitely changing,” it said, and Jensen seethed. Did it really think Jensen was unaware what was happening to him? It approached until it was directly in front of Jensen, then it held out its hand, in a human greeting. “I’m Jared.” 

Jensen’s punch to its jaw sent it falling backward to the ground, just out of reach, and Jensen strained at his restraints to reach its fallen sword and shield. 

* * *

JARED 

“My luck’s definitely changing,” Jared said. He’d been foraging berries when he’d heard the ruckus, and while fauns were often mislabelled as flighty, it was true that they were insatiably fond of novelty. An unexpected battle to save a captive centaur was just the thing to save Jared from an otherwise uneventful outing. 

Now that the centaur had opened his eyes, Jared could see they were the most mesmerizing green. Sparkly. And fauns were described as the magpies of the forest, for their love of—and tendency to steal—shiny trinkets. Of course, fighting with eyes closed didn’t say much for this centaur’s sense of self-preservation. Jared watched the pretty green eyes widen but couldn’t decipher the centaur’s expression. At first he wondered if it—no, _he_ , the stallion was most definitely he judging by his massive erection—might have a concussion as the centaur’s face moved from surprise to fear to anger in what seemed like the blink of an eye. That would be too bad, since there was no way Jared would go for a romp with his new friend if he was injured, no matter the centaur’s obvious interest. Which Jared heartily returned. 

He held out his hand. “I’m Jared.” 

Distracted by those sparkly eyes, Jared saw the centaur’s fist move too late. 

Jared came to with a groan, and he brought his hand up to cradle his sore jaw. When he saw the angry centaur fighting to reach the sword a scant hand's breadth away, Jared scrambled to his feet and grabbed his weaponry. 

“I’m thinking maybe I backed the wrong side,” Jared said. “What the fuck is your problem?” 

The centaur kicked out a front leg in Jared’s direction, missing his head, but not by much, and Jared took a couple more steps back. The stallion’s hooves were about double the size of Jared’s own cloven hooves. 

“Dammit! Stop that! I’m trying to help you.” 

“Yeah, sure you are.” The centaur kicked out again and was tripped by the ropes. “It was an accident! I didn’t mean to disturb your nest.” 

Jared twisted his face in incomprehension. “Disturb my . . . oh for fuck’s sake, I’m not one of them! Look at me!” 

“I’m not stupid. I know how glamour works.” 

“Listen, horse, I’m not a huldre, I’m a fucking faun!” Jared kicked up his feet as he nimbly jumped from a tree stump to a large moss-covered rock in demonstration 

“You went through them far too easily.” The centaur shook its head. “You weren’t trapped by their glamour.” 

“A _faun_ , shit for brains! We’re not affected by glamour.” Jared turned up his lip in distaste as he said the word. “We’re far too fond of practical jokes to be taken by minor trickery.” Fauns had a notorious penchant for amusement, usually at another’s expense. 

The centaur didn’t look convinced, but he had stopped lashing out, so Jared was pleased with the improvement. 

“You’re not from around here, are you, horse?” Jared said, and was pleased to see the needling worked. The centaur seemed more annoyed now than angry. 

“Not a horse.” The words were clipped. 

Jared shrugged. “I daresay horses have better manners. You might remember that I already introduced _my_ self. It’s Jared, in case you missed it.” 

“Jensen.” The centaur glowered. 

“So, where are you from, Jensen?” Jared sat down as if he were prepared to stay for a nice long chat completely oblivious to the ropes that still held Jensen. 

“East.” 

“That’s kind of vague,” Jared said. “I’m from the foothills myself. Decided to see the world. Was gathering berries a ways back when I heard you yelling, so—” 

“Get these off me!” Jensen demanded, pulling again at the ropes. Jared let his eyes trace the play of muscles under his coat as Jensen kicked at his bindings. He couldn’t prevent a wide smile at the many ideas that the restrained, gorgeous centaur was giving him. Given Jensen’s reaction to the restraints, Jared suspected Jensen wouldn’t be likely to indulge his fantasies. Any more that he already had, anyway. Jensen met his eyes, not looking away this time, and Jared thought he might have actually convinced the stubborn idiot that he wasn’t one of the forest creatures who trapped him. 

“Get them off me!” Jensen ordered again, far too imperiously for Jared’s liking. Centaurs weren’t known for their sense of humor, but Jared couldn’t help himself. 

“Say please.” 

Jensen’s nostrils flared. He pawed the ground, but he was stymied by the rope that pulled taut with the motion. Jensen swore. 

“Oh relax, I’ll get you free,” Jared said, and he stood up as though he hadn’t a care in the world. “So, you were pretty bad, huh?” 

“What?” 

“Well,” Jared said, with a carefully straight face. “A huldre usually has one goal . . . and it doesn’t get angry if it’s satisfied. So. . .” Jared made a show of looking Jensen up and down. “I guess looks aren’t everything.” Jensen sputtered and Jared had that warm fuzzy feeling of a job well done. 

“No! I—” 

“Mind telling me why you thought I was with them?” He ran his hand down his furred haunch. “Seems pretty obvious that I’m not.” The faun’s quick changes of topic seemed to have thrown Jensen off-balance. This was the most fun Jared had had in a long time. 

“I saw them start to shift,” Jensen began. 

“And you thought they turned into me?” Jared laughed. The he broke into a wide, devilish grin. “You thought,” he took a step closer, “when it should have taken on the glamour designed to seduce you, that it had turned into me.” He took another confident step forward, with just a hint of swagger, to bring himself within licking distance of Jensen’s bare chest. Jared’s head was roughly in line with the centaur’s nipples, which, Jared thought, made his restraint all that much more impressive. Jensen's pink nubs, perkily perched on his glorious pecs, fairly begged to be licked. 

He held there a moment staring at the centaur with a knowing grin, enjoying the blush that bloomed on Jensen’s face, before Jared abruptly crouched down to untie Jensen’s front leg. It had been pulled so tight that there was no way to undo it. He drew his sword and Jensen started. 

“To cut the rope.” Jared paused until Jensen settled again. It was the work of seconds, but Jared took a bit more time, so that his movement wouldn’t cause Jensen any more pain. The skin beneath the rope was raw and bleeding, and Jared glanced around to see if there was anything nearby to make a poultice. He didn’t see anything useful, but he remembered passing a patch of broadleaf plantain earlier, which would do nicely. He stood up and walked to Jensen’s rear leg, which was even worse than the front one. 

A snapping twig reminded Jared that there were things other than huldrefolk lurking in the forest. He turned to face the sound and brought up his sword, holding it ready to meet an attack, standing shoulder to shoulder with the centaur as he waited. From the corner of his eye, Jared saw Jensen pull at the knot again. Jared bent down and quickly severed the rope with his blade. Jensen’s foot began to bleed again at the rough handling, but neither paid it much attention. They waited at the ready until Jared lowered his arm and rolled his shoulders to loosen the stiffness. 

“I think we’re good,” he said, sheathing his sword. Unarmed, Jensen frowned into the dense underbrush, not relaxing his stance. Jared cocked his head to one side as he watched him. 

Jared bent to check Jensen’s bleeding leg but Jensen immediately stepped back, wincing as he did so. 

“You’re hurt, let me help.” 

Jensen said nothing, watching Jared with suspicion, and Jared had had enough. “Why did I even bother?” he said angrily to the treetops. “Have a good life, horse.” And with that he set off towards the berry patch, intending to forget all about the centaur with the mesmerizing eyes. 

“Wait,” Jensen called, just Jared entered the dense brush where Jensen, large as he was, could not easily follow. Jared waited but didn’t look back. 

“Thank you,” Jensen said. 

Jared shrugged but he made his way back to Jensen. It was much more fun having someone to talk to, and Jared was a long way from home. “You’re welcome,” he said. 

Jensen shifted and he flinched again when he put weight on his rear foot. 

“It’s pretty raw from that rope,” Jared said. “Give me a few minutes and I can put something on it.” 

Jensen shook his head. “It’s not that. Got a rock wedged in there. It’s nothing, really, just a bit sore.” 

“Let me see.” Jared stepped to Jensen’s hind quarters but hesitated before he touched him. This centaur seemed especially prickly, and Jared had seen what a blow from those hooves could do. Jensen gave an abrupt nod and picked up his foot. 

Jared sidled close, taking the proffered foot and pressing tight to Jensen’s side to provide support. Jensen’s hip was warm against Jared’s bare shoulder. 

“Don’t move” he said. Jared slipped his sword free once more, and with a quick flick of the tip, he dislodged the stone. 

“Okay, you should be good.” He set the foot down. This close, he couldn’t even pretend to miss the very long, very prominent, proof of Jensen’s interest that hung below his belly, growing even as he watched. Mating season, Jared remembered. 

“See something you like?” he asked casually. 

Jensen didn’t respond, looking steadfastly away. That wouldn’t do, Jared thought. He sprightly bounded into Jensen’s line of sight and waited. Jared could be very hard to ignore when he wanted to be. 

Jensen’s lips pinched tight. Then he spoke. “No. Not that I can do anything about it now, can I?” 

“You can pretty much do whatever you want,” Jared told him. Fauns had a well deserved reputation as ever-willing playmates. “In case it wasn’t painfully obvious.” He stroked himself for emphasis. “I could put the ropes back on. . .” Jared suggested, with a hopeful smile. “I mean, I’ve never with a centaur, but there’s so much I can do with a rope that―” 

“You’re going to do it anyway! Stop toying with me!” 

“What?” Jared stopped cold, taken aback. “I thought you were interested?” 

“Like I have a choice!” 

Few situations caught Jared at a loss for words, but the centaur’s renewed suspicion left him unable to utter a single word. 

“You had me fooled.” Jensen’s self-mocking laugh held no amusement. “You really did. But I know what you want.” 

“You still think I’m . . . I’m not a huldre. Jensen, you can tell me to leave anytime.” 

“Yeah, right.” 

“Oh, for the last time, I am not one of them! Tell me to stop and I will. You’ll never see me again.” 

“I know how this works!” Jensen advanced on him, head held high and eyes flashing with anger. Jared slowly backed away from the towering creature until a tree at his back prevented further retreat. “A life alone or death,” Jensen continued. “That’s what I have to look forward to!” 

“I’m a faun, not a incubus,” Jared said quietly, completely serious for the first time since he’d met the centaur. “Have a good life, Jensen.” Without another word, he slipped sideways and moved briskly away towards the brush. 

He didn’t get far before he was spun around, and his vision was filled by Jensen’s bare chest. Jared dropped his hand to his sword, but Jensen’s very human hand caught Jared’s before he could draw, and Jensen’s other hand tangled in his hair and pulled him in close. Jensen trapped Jared’s mouth in a fierce kiss. Jared returned it, and it was less of a kiss than a battle, hard and forceful, teeth clashing, lips bruising. Stallion and buck, equally dominant. Jensen reared back suddenly, releasing Jared as if on fire and the faun fell back. Jensen stared at him with widened eyes. After a moment’s surprised stare, Jared’s customary smirk returned, and he took a step forward. 

“I’m not a huldre,” he repeated, and took another step towards Jensen. “I’m a faun.” Another step. “And I would love to take care of your not-so-little problem.” Jared placed a hand in the center of Jensen’s smooth well-built chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat. “Tell me to stop.” 

Jared let his hand trail down his lower torso, feeling the soft downy hair that thickened as it reached the centaur’s equine front legs. Jensen’s eyes followed his every move, but Jensen remained silent. Jared smiled, and let his hands caress Jensen’s flank as he moved back. Jensen’s tail was held high, a clear invitation. 

“Jensen!” Jared froze and Jensen’s nostrils flared. The call came from the trail. Jensen cleared his throat. 

“Here!” he called. 

“About time!” The female centaur who trotted towards them was bare-chested like Jensen, except for the strap of a broadsword running between her magnificent breasts to a scabbard on her back. “I was getting worried that—” She broke off when she saw Jared, and Jared didn’t miss the way her hand automatically rose in readiness towards the pommel of her sword. The centaur’s eyes took in Jared’s very prominent erection, which hadn’t abated in the slightest at her appearance. Jensen’s had diminished, but Jared had no problem with spectators. 

“And this is . . .” Jared prompted when neither overgrown horse seemed likely to say anything. 

“A friend,” Jensen said, and he shifted his weight back and forth uneasily. 

“You going to introduce us?” Jared asked, with an amused smile. 

“No.” Jensen spun around and broke into a run, leaving the female centaur and Jared staring after him. 

Jensen's friend looked quizzically at Jared, then shrugged her shoulders. With a toss of her auburn hair, she wheeled around and trotted towards the forest path, with only one curious backwards glance at Jared. Once on the path, she sped off to catch up with Jensen. Jared stared after them long after they'd disappeared into the dark of the forest. His eyes fell to the lengths of cut rope on the scuffed forest floor: the only signs Jensen had been there. Jared began walking, much more slowly than Jensen had, but in the same direction. Fauns were the magpies of the forest after all. . . and Jensen’s eyes had glittered like emeralds. 

* * *

JENSEN 

"Jensen! Stop!" 

Danneel had caught up with him, despite his head start. It wasn't surprising; she was easily the fastest runner in their herd. 

"Hold up," she said again. "Shit, Jensen, took me long enough to find you." 

“Sorry,” Jensen said as he slowed, stopping finally in a small soggy meadow. 

"Everything okay?" Danneel asked as she stopped alongside him. 

Jensen just shrugged. His fetlocks ached where the blood-matted hair had pulled during his run, but the pain in his hoof was better now that the stone was removed. Jensen looked away, resisting the urge to look back towards where he'd left Jared. The sun had just dipped behind the distant western mountain range, coloring the sky in orange, pink and purple. 

"Danneel,” Jensen said, after a slight hesitation. “Back there . . . what did you see?” 

“What do you mean? I saw you. With a faun. And it looked like—” 

“But you saw him, right? The faun?” 

“Of course I did. What’s going on in that head of yours? This about Stephen?” She looked him over critically and inhaled sharply when she noticed his injured legs. "Fuck, are you okay? Did it attack you?" She drew her blade in a single fluid motion and stepped into a guarding position at his back. 

"I'm fine." 

“Liar.” She paused before continuing. “Jensen, out with it.” 

“Huldre. I was attacked. More than one. Long story. I had my eyes closed so I thought I was okay. When I looked, there was this faun who had saved me.” 

“Okay. And—other than not telling me this right away—the problem is what?” 

“I can’t get him out of my head,” Jensen admitted, quietly. 

“The faun?” 

“Yes! The faun!” Jensen didn’t appreciate the skeptical tone. He kicked the ground. “He was . . . Fuck, Danneel, you saw him! He was perfect! So maybe I was right the first time. Maybe he trapped me after all . . . glamoured himself to lure me.” 

“Can’t be. I saw it too, Jensen. And I wasn’t remotely attracted to it. I mean, it's a _faun_.” Her tone delicately indicated her distaste. 

“Don’t.” Best friend or not, Jensen wasn’t in the mood to take any flak for his sexual preferences, especially when he was just learning about them himself. 

“Give it time,” Danneel said, finally. “I think the breakup with Stephen hit you harder than—” 

“I don't want Stephen!” Jensen blinked when he realized the truth of what he'd said. “It has nothing to do with him.” 

The sound of a throat clearing startled them. Danneel wheeled around, sword raised while Jensen stood as if his legs were anchored to the ground and stared at Jared, who had emerged into the meadow sporting a mischievous smirk that Jensen knew would be trouble. Danneel had partially closed the distance between him and Jared before he was able to yell for her to stop. 

“Pretty,” Jared said, ignoring the weapon raised in his direction. “The sky, I mean,” Jared continued. “And me, of course.” Jared stepped forward, glancing askance at Danneel and keeping his hands carefully in front of him before he returned his full attention to Jensen. "And then there’s you. So, here’s the thing: we were interrupted just when it was getting interesting." Danneel sidled left and rolled her eyes at Jensen, unamused. “And I never did get to help you out with that rather _large_ problem of yours," Jensen couldn't tear his eyes away as Jared's cock peeked from its furred sheath, and in no time Jensen was painfully hard. "Anyway, if there's nowhere you need to be, I thought maybe we could get back to that.” Jared raised a hopeful eyebrow, but it fell as the seconds passed with Jensen's continued silence. Jared finally shrugged, and his ever-present smile became regretful. "It was worth a try. Take care, Jensen." 

In bounding strides, Jared disappeared into the forest, and Jensen watched him go. 

Danneel shook her head. "Alright then, let's head back." She set off, and then turned back when Jensen made no move to follow. "Jensen?" 

Jensen blinked at her and then made a decision. "I'll be gone a while. Don't worry." He grinned at her, and kicked up his legs like a colt. "And thanks, but don't come find me!" 

He tore off after Jared. 

**Author's Note:**

> I lucked out once again and was able to snag an absolutely awesome art prompt as a pinch-hit! Run to see the artwork [*HERE*](http://soserendipity.livejournal.com/41327.html) and tell her how great it is! Soserendipity, it was a pleasure working with you. 
> 
> A huge thanks to firesign10 for the wonderful feedback and last-minute beta! All mistakes are mine.
> 
> And thank you to mods of spn_reversebang for running this challenge for us.
> 
> FYI, the huldrefolk (singular huldre) in my story are borrowed from the huldra/hulder and skogsra of Scandinavian folklore, and I especially liked that in Iceland construction projects are altered to avoid disturbing the homes of the huldufolk (elves). I took liberties with the mythology and smushed it all together for plot purposes.


End file.
